In June of 2015, four months ago, I discovered something - I love to paint.

I discovered something else - I'm kind of good at it. Can I say that?

Thinking about the way my brain has changed (lyme effect), and how I am exploding with artistic expression these days, wondering why but not wondering too hard because I don't want to spoil it.

Also thinking that part of that change means I cannot remember details of the whys and the whats as I learn them. They will not be held in my mind.

​Reading Big Magic, still. and thinking about legitimacy.

I have a confession to make. I feel illegitimate as an artist. It's because I cannot hold a conversation with anyone about art, or artists, color or line, composition or any of the details other artists seem to hold so easily in their minds.

I do hold it all... just not in the part of my mind where the language lives. I hold it all... in the part of my mind where I create. 

Thinking about how Nasty Girl tells me not to bother learning about all the details, the whats and the whys. "What the hell?" She's so snarky with me. "You won't remember them anyway. You won't be able to talk about them while sipping champagne at an art opening, discussing the various styles and histories and all the rest. Don't bother." 

Nasty Girl is, as my grandmother used to say, full of pink tea.
​I'm not going to let her talk smack to me.. 

Liz Gilbert says to be a gangster for our art.
I like that. 

I choose gangster.
Anybody got a problem with that? 

I didn't think so.

This has been consuming my thoughts since last night. It's a quote from Brené Brown on Magic Lessons #12, with Elizabeth Gilbert. "My creativity requires Midwifery" lead me to telling myself how easily shame can emerge when we share our work. Mine does, anyway. From the far away corner of my mind, there it is. But lasst night I had a new response to it. Shame - you are dead to me! The feeling of letting go of shame was with me as I waited for sleep. 

When sleep finally came, I dreamed I was dying. All night long, the same dream, dying over and over. Dying? Why? I even remember, in my dream, a vague awareness of the dreamstate, and thought it was odd. Like a toddler who will not stop repeating MOMMY until you stop and respond, it kept repeating itself, over and over again. 

There were tiles and letters painted in the corners. They were red or yellow, off and on, one or the other. White. There was a lot of white, too. I wasn't scared or sad, Just watching, and for some reason, feeling relieved. 

Morning came and I looked back with curiosity on my dreams. What did it all mean- and Why wasn't I scared? What were my dreams telling me? 

Midwifery helps bring life into the world. Let's say the word life represents the result (or fruit) of any creative force. Feeling bad, embarrassed, or ashamed about bringing that life out into the world can lead to letting it die - and I am so madly in love with my newfound art that I refuse to let shame destroy it. I think my dream was trying to tell me that I am finally letting shame die. It's had a death grip on the corner of my shirt every time I run to Facebook and share my creations. I need to let die that ugly little voice that has been whispering in my ear 'leave them alone - you are driving them crazy with this stuff! Enough! Stop it with the Donna Show!'

Part of the joy in creating the paintings is showing them. Not just because people are so sweet and kind and even excited, but because I just can't freaking believe how much fun it is! There is also an element of shock, because until 4 months ago, I had no idea I was artistic.

When Brené Brown said those words, it was like a clap of thunder. I thought of my friends on social media and here in the flesh who cheer me on and knew - THEY ARE MY MIDWIVES!!! Everyone who helps me by allowing me to simply bring this art into the world with joy... THEY are my midwives. 

It's not that I couldn't do it without them, but I wouldn't. They are part of my joy. 

These last several years have forced me to completely rethink who I am, why I am, and what it is I can offer the world. I feel new. Reborn. When my career died, I thought there was nothing left. I thought that's all I was. My midwives are helping me discover who I am.

My creativity requires midwifery. Maybe I'll have it tattooed across my forehead, backwards, so that I'll be reminded whenever I pass by a mirror.

#BigMagic